


Deep End

by The_Onyx_Moon



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 23:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Onyx_Moon/pseuds/The_Onyx_Moon
Summary: You don’t trust Loki.  You hate Loki, everything he stands for, and everything he does.  You are not becoming friends with him.  And you are most definitely not falling in love with him.





	Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn’t really follow the MCU timeline. I guess pretend that Odin got desperate and gave Loki to the Midguardians to handle for a bit while he caught up on that #OdinSleep. Also, I saw a post a while back that really inspired this fic. You should definitely check it out (and keep in mind that the blue and green eye color shifts in this fic are on purpose)
> 
> MY FIRST LOKI FIC!!! Not sure how I feel about it, but it’s my first time exploring writing Loki as a character and I wanted to focus more on that than a huge, exhausting plor. And it’s a beast. over 4,000 words (and an unnecessarily excessive amount of gifs)

_You didn’t want to admit it._

_You didn’t want to give him the power he so_ desperately _wanted._

_Yet here you were, handing it to him on a silver platter._

Loki Laufeyson was a snake, always has been, always will be.  But he knew who he was, which was more than you could say for yourself.

When the Avengers first brought him to your branch of S.H.I.E.L.D., you told everyone what a bad idea this was.  But no one listened.  Of course they didn’t.  Instead, they followed the advice of the foolish bunch that made up the team.  You didn’t understand how their words held so much weight.  They were people just like you, they made mistakes (a lot of mistakes) but because they were some overpowered assholes people bent to their whims left and right.

No one heeded what you had to say.

So when things started going wrong around the base, you had to bite your tongue from saying “I told you so!”  Nothing too extreme, no deaths or injuries, but you could tell the trickster was trying to amuse himself somehow.  You gathered that being held captive wasn’t exactly entertaining.

Loki’s magic was far stronger than any cage you could keep him in, that you knew for sure.  What you didn’t understand was why he didn’t just break out.  He could be free if he  _really_  wanted to, and you and your people wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him.

You’d heard terrible things about him, about what’d he’d done both on your world and his own.  How he gleefully tortured humans before he was brought to justice in New York.  How he took advantage of his brother’s exile and all but doomed Asgard.  How, on many different occasions, he’d even tried to kill his brother and father.  Not his mother though... that bit stumped you.  There was definitely a monster painted in your mind when it came to Loki.

So when those great buffoons brought the Prince of Asgard to your people, your walls immediately shot up.  You prepared for day one to be absolute hell, having to wrangle Loki into a cell and keep him from trying anything.

Instead, what you got what a husk of a man, grey and weary, who was shoved unceremoniously into a cell to rot.  Everyone was ready to forget him.

A luxury you wish you shared.

But when you saw those sunken eyes and broken man, you wondered how the hell  _this_  was the infamous Chitauri leader who practically leveled New York City.  Something about him wouldn’t let you be.  Something about him begged to be discovered and damn it, you were never one to turn away from a mystery.

And a mystery he was.

Every time you saw him, you saw a different shadow of a man.  Sometimes he would terrify you, his smile stretching across his face in genuine enjoyment when he unsettled someone.  Others, he wept - openly, not giving a damn who saw him.  You couldn’t figure him out and it infuriated you.

Your superiors weren’t happy when you all but demanded to be assigned to Loki’s charge.  In fact, they were downright pissed.  Accused you of having some sick fascination with the murderous trickster.  ‘ _We don’t need another situation like Gotham.’_ They hissed, and that was the last of that.  In your defense, you were never really good with authority.

But you were not Dr. Quinzel.  You didn’t lust after this man, or love him. 

You hated him and you wanted to figure out what made him tick.  That way you could crush him just like he’d crushed your world.

* * *

You’re careful as you try to weasel your way through the system and get yourself reassigned.  Lucky you, a rookie agent is overjoyed at the chance to get out of Loki’s charge.  He thinks you’re insane, but he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

You bide your time, exchanging small favors with the high ups of the department.  An overlooked disappearance here, a waived debt there.  You didn’t like it, but it was a means to an end.

And it was all worth it when you were finally placed as Chief Observation of the operation - in charge of keeping an eye and ear on Loki at almost all times.  The increased personal time between the two of you gives you plenty of time to notice strange ticks and inconsistencies in the Trickster’s behavior.  Even inconsistencies in his  _appearance_.

You think you’re imagining it at first.  That it’s a trick of the light when his eyes sometimes look blue, sometimes green.  Sometimes his skin even looks duller than usual...almost, a sickly blue... You write it off as some of his distasteful magic tricks.

Your first several exchanges are useless.  An angry man throwing out hateful words.  He goads you, giving you absolutely nothing when you ask your questions, slowly trying to ease your way in.

  


Over the weeks your strained relationship doesn’t become any less hostile, but the routine seems to offer you both some sense of comfort.  On days you don’t have an encounter with him, you find yourself feeling a little out of sorts.

Even though he says horrid, dehumanizing things...days without his presence seem...odd.

You attribute it to his (probable) magic use on you.

The first time he shows you even an ounce of kindness, you’re shocked.  You don’t know how to take it, analyzing it from an emotionless standpoint - the one you’d trained so hard on.  What was his motive?  Did he think he could butter you up, get you on his side with false promises and Asgardian chivalry?  If he thought he had a read on you, he had another thing coming.

Passing months make your relationship feel odd.  You don’t like each other, that much is evident.  But you tolerate each other.  One could say you even look forward to your time together.  

Maybe it’s a sick perversion.

As time goes on, however, you worry that perhaps you understand 

* * *

“It’s good to see you, pet,”  Loki says, voice soft and pleasant.  You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you did prefer days when he seemed softer.  Not just his tone of voice, but even the way he carried himself.  He didn’t seem so...sharp.

You had to put your guard up on high for days like these.

“Goodmorning, Loki.”  You greet, wearing a small smile.  The one he returns  ~~makes your heart flutter~~  makes you suspicious.  “How was breakfast?”

“Tasteless, barely fit to be called a meal, but sustenance none the less.”  There doesn’t seem to be any malice in his words, but you won’t let him get the better of you.  A chuckle, mirthful, not aggressive.  “As usual.” Something changes in his face then.  A flicker of movement in his eyes, sorrow on his face. “I’m glad you’re here.”  He whispers.  “I wanted to talk to you.”

You wait with bated breath, unable to place the note in Loki’s voice that sounds as if he’s about to break.

“About?”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re not expecting that.  To be honest, you don’t even know  _what_  he’s apologizing for, but you’re not sure if he’s ever said those words in his entire life.  

“I...I have said things that... _done_  things.”  He struggles with the word.  The way he gulps down his nerves is audible.  “Vile things.  Know that I am not typically all that loathsome. Though I do not deny that I do have perhaps a little too much fun with discourse.”  His smile is genuine, shy, and small. It takes him a moment to go on.  “I do not deserve your forgiveness.  I know it’s strange and unrequited - not like that -” He tacks on when you raise an eyebrow.  “But I have come to consider you...a friend.”

No.  No no no no no no no no no.  You should not.  You  _do not_ feel the same.  Feeling the same is a slippery slope, and you were. not. Harleen. Quinzel.  You would remain strong.  You would not fall victim to those  ~~beautiful~~  green eyes and bad boy attitude. You. would.  _not_.

“I do consider you a friend, Loki.”   _Well, you tried._

  


You do your best to convince yourself that you’re lying to him, feigning friendship as a manipulation tactic.  It doesn’t help that he’s smiling at you like that.

You know it’s a lie.

So does he.

It still keeps you up at night.

* * *

“Goodmorning, Agent X.”  That sick smile crossed a pale, hardened face.   _So it was one of those days._

“You know that’s not my name, Loki.”  You say as a way of greeting.  he merely shrugs, shackles clinking quietly against the desk where he was tethered.

“I know.  But why would I bother to learn the name of someone so abysmally insignificant when I can just call you whatever I’d like?”

“Charming.”

“I try, pet.”  You hate when he calls you ‘pet’ on his worse days.  It taints the memory of how affectionately he says it on his good days.

Sighing and rolling your eyes, you sit down opposite him and do your best to avoid eye contact.  It was an action that you deemed unwise when he was in this mood.

“Alright, your majesty,”  you begin with a stabbing smirk of your own.  The title brings a fire to those blue eyes.  One you try to ignore.  “Let’s get to it then, shall we?”

“Yes,  _let’s._ Tell me, pet, how do you want me?  On the floor, against the wall?  Bent over the table?”

“I’d rather compliant.”  He tsks at that, cocking his head to the side with an infuriating smirk.

“Well, I’m normally the one in control, but I must say the thought of a woman like you _dominating_ this whole...squabble is quite enticing _._ Especially when you choose to keep me bound like this. _”_

  


“Get your head out of the gutter, Trickster, before I remove it for you and then shove it up your own ass.”  The smirk does not disappear, in fact, it grows wider.  You ignore it.  “New York.  I assume I don’t have to elaborate?”

“But I do so love it when you drone on and  _on_ ,”  Loki says, sarcasm dripping off every word.  “The sound of your voice does  _so_  arouse my interest.”

“Yeah, and yours does  _so_  quash mine.”  You snap back, voice mocking in a different way than his.  “Loki.  New York.  Your take over.  We still have agents missing, and I aim to find them.  The ones you controlled and otherwise.”

“Well, my dear, might I suggest going to check where this all began?  I do think it would be quite obvious, no?  Tell me, did you bother to check the  _rubble_.”  Your teeth gnash, your jaw clenching, and you so desperately try to hide your fury from him.  It does not go unnoticed.  “As for the ones I controlled, what is it you humans typically do with a beast of burden who has outlived its usefulness.”

Metal screeching against metal echoed through the interrogation chamber as you violently your chair away from the table.  Loki doesn’t even flinch when you slam your hands down to hold your shaking body up.

“God damn it, you sick sonofabitch, where. is. my. sister?”  Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over.  The tighter you clench your jaw the less it seems to help.

“Oooh.  It finally comes out.”  His voice is a snarl, balanced and timed perfectly. “The thing you’ve been  _dying_  to know since we met a year ago, yes?  I’ve seen it, you know?  The utter need to hear the answer, the truth.  Listen to me very carefully, pet.”  His voice is chilling, his power looming over you without him even having to move a muscle.  “You will not raise your voice to me again.  I am a god, and I will not be threatened by a meager Midgardian who I could crush if I so wished.  Just like I did  _your sister_.  Now, shall we try that again?”

You want nothing more than to punch that sickening grin off of his sharp, pale face.  It takes everything you have not to, and then some to gather your composure. You can’t look him in the eyes, not after that, ot while you have to clench your fists to keep from choking him to death.  Finally, you feel like you can speak without breaking.

“I hope you enjoy your stay, Loki.  Because you'll get no more kindness from me.”

  


“And here I thought things were going to get boring.”

* * *

You don’t speak to Loki for weeks.

You don’t go to visit him either.  The last exchange has left you so livid that you even change his meal schedule, only letting the guards feed him once a day now. Perhaps it was cruel.  But nowhere near half as cruel as what he had done.

Your routine shifts, something you’d secretly been dreading.  Your entertaining, albeit unorthodox, company leaves a hole in your life that you find difficult to fill.  

The change affects Loki as well, though he wouldn’t tell the peons you’ve sent him in your stead.  No, instead he would suffer in silence.

And suffer he did.

A darkness that he hadn’t known for a while, not since you began to visit him a year ago, begins to creep back into his consciousness.  It darkens his days, keeps him up at night -  ~~though the tears may be the real cause of his sleeplessness~~.  

A sickly sweet voice haunts his dreams and even his waking hours.  The lure of power and revenge.  Of  _acceptance._  He fights it as best he can.  He hadn’t completely shaken it before, that he knew.

And he regretted it more than anything.

He  _hated_  the days when that darkness made him that much more foul.  Of course, he was never aware of it in the morning.  No, instead he would wake up the next day, sometimes even days later, with the memory of your face as he hurled something particularly nasty your way.  The image would haunt him, and it took everything he had not to cry when you came to see him again.

But now those visits had stopped, and it becomes harder and harder for Loki to pull himself out of his abyss.

Odin did not want him, he was not worthy of a throne, or affection from his people or even his own brother.  He did not belong, he never did.  The only time he felt like he was wanted was with this putrid force manipulating his mind.

He’s losing himself again and the only person who’s been able to find him again is gone.

  


 

* * *

You have no patience.  You’ve reached the end of your rope.  It was your day  _off_ , yet here you were, stomping into the base because Loki was throwing a _fit_.

The god of mischief was throwing a temper tantrum.  And you were, apparently, the only one he would let into his cell without hurling some projectile at them.

You hear his screaming in the corridor long before you see him, your heart hammering painfully at the sound of utter agony in his voice.  The guards outside his cell raise their eyebrows at you, obviously not impressed with that fact that  _you_  were the one he  ~~asked for~~  demanded.  When you pass through the first measure of security to get a glimpse of him through the two-way mirror.

Your heart breaks at the sight.

Loki is huddled on the floor, debris of the furnishings S.H.I.E.L.D. had so generously provided after you kept  ~~pestering~~  asking them strewn all around him.  He’s covered in blood, sweat, and tears - literally - and for the first time in a long time, you feel bad for Loki.  Finally, his thrashing ceases and he slumps against the wall behind him, falling silent.

  


At least he seems to be done screaming.

“Are you going to act like a big boy now, Mr. All Powerful God, or should I come back later after you’ve decided to grow up?”

The answer to your biting sarcasm is silence.  Loki doesn’t even bother to glance at the glass (which you know he can definitely see through with those powers of his.)

After several more moments of silence, you relent, scanning your badge and inputting your fingerprint and code to enter the Trickster’s quarters.  He’s silent when you enter, the only sound in the room is his heavy breathing as he attempts to recover from his tantrum.  Still, his eyes are trained on something invisible in front of him, something dancing behind those haunted eyes.

“What was so damn important that you had to go destroying your room over.  S.H.I.E.L.D. is not going to replace this, by the way.  I hope you enjoy your redecorating.”  You stand there for several, tense minutes, as unmoving as the man in front of you.  Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you can take no more.  “Well, Loki?  What do you have to say for yourself?”

When he still doesn’t answer, you scoff and turn on your heels to make a hasty retreat.

“I didn’t kill your sister.”

His voice is so quiet, so broken, that you have to take a moment to figure out if he’d actually spoken or if you were hearing things.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t kill your sister.  Though my intentions with her and other agents’ skills were less than admirable, I did  _not_  hurt them.”

“Alright,” your voice wavers far more than you would like.  “So you didn’t hurt a small group of people.  And though I can...appreciate that you didn’t hurt my flesh and blood, you still killed hundreds.  Possibly thousands.”

“I know.”  You had expected him to sound cocky.  Not like a small child.  “I am not claiming I’m worthy of any sort of redemption.  I deserve it here.  But I had to tell you.  I did not hurt your sister.  And if I could, I would tell you where she is.”

“And why can’t you?”  Your voice fills the small chamber as you scream at Loki.  His green eyes come up to meet the fire in your own.

“It’s...difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

“He found me.  After I’d been...denounced by my father.”

“Who found you?”

“Thanos.”  You’re not quite sure why, but the name sends nausea straight through you.  Perhaps it’s the way even Loki seems to fear it.  “He gave me an offer...one I could not refuse, but then you can’t really refuse anything when your mind isn’t your own now, can you?”  His laugh is forced, hollow, and you find yourself missing his true laughter as his words sink in.

“Agent Barton.”  You surmise.  “You controlled him with your scepter...you got the scepter from Thanos...”

“Correct.”

“Did...Loki, did the scepter control  _you_?”

His answer lies in the shame he exudes when he can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Not...entirely.  He offered me what I wanted.  I am sorry to say that I...took his offer with no hesitation.  It wasn’t until after he accentuated my desires that I realized I was...changing.  I was  _not_...myself. I know I’m no saint, pet, but I’ve seen what Thanos wants.  It makes even  _me_  sick.”

“How can I trust you, Loki?”

“You can’t.  But I trust  _you_.”

You scoff at the sentiment, trying to ignore the tears that collect in the corners of your eyes.

“This is just another bunch of your lies.  I don’t have to listen to it anymore.”  Not trusting yourself to 

“Pet,”

“Stop trying to control me, Loki!  I’m not falling for your - your mind control again!”

“ _I would never do that to you_!”  You’re terrified for a moment, unable to keep from jumping at Loki’s sudden outburst.  “I would never do that again.”  Tears.  Actual tears roll down Loki’s cheeks, his voice cracking with sorrow.  “I would never put anyone through the torment that still haunts me.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, moving before you can even register what’s happening.  Kneeling, you reach for him and for the very first time, you touch him.  His cheek is  _cold_ , his tears even colder as you wipe them away from his smooth skin.  Those haunted green eyes find your own and you have to swallow the emotion welling in your throat.

“I still feel it sometimes.”  He pants, reaching up to hold your hand against his cheek.  His eyes flutter shut at the comfort it brings.  “It scratches at my mind until I give in from the pain.  I can’t control it, I don’t know which way is up or who anyone is - who  _I_ am.  But you...”  His brow furrows - a tension that you brush away with comforting fingers.  As you  ~~lovingly~~  caress his skin, his eyes find you once more.  “You, Y/N, you calm the storms within my head.”  You realize in that moment that Loki has never called you anything other than pet, or Agent ‘letter-of-the-day’.

His cool hands close around your hand placed on his cheek, brushing his lips across your knuckles.  Unable to hold them back any longer, your tears fall free with a shuttering breath.  Loki’s face is kind, gentle, as he reaches forward with his free hand to brush your tears away as you had his.  You’re lost in his eyes, in the cool, pale expanse of his chilled skin, the way your hands feel so good against each other’s skin.

It isn’t until some stray wire behind you (displaced by his earlier outburst) sparks loudly, illuminating the bags under Loki’s  ~~gorgeous~~  eyes that you suddenly remember where you are.  Grievously, you pull your hand away from him and sit back on your haunches across from him.

“Loki...we...we can’t.  They’ll take me off your charge, or worse - detain us both.  I cannot be another Dr. Qui-”

“I would never ask that of you.  I don’t deserve you.  You have my word, that I will do everything in my power to fight Thanos’ spell and I  _will_  find your sister, my love.”  He reaches forward once more, his knuckles brushing briefly against your cheek.  A forbidden touch.  One to help him hold off from more.  “But a friendship.  A helping hand.  Help me become the man I was before all this.  Please.  Help me to be  _better_ than that.”  He smiles remorsefully.  “Maybe then, if I am given a second chance...maybe we can try.  All I ask of you now is to just be here.  Calm my storms, pet.”

“I can try.”

“I could never ask for more.”  You regard him as you stand and proceed toward the door.  The two of you share one last glance for now, one that is free from any masks or malice.  The only thing you see in Loki’s eyes in affection and trust.  Something you’re sure is reflected right back at him in your own eyes.

“Loki, you wouldn’t need to  _ask_.”

_You ~~didn’t~~  wanted to admit it._

_You ~~didn’t~~  wanted to give him the  ~~power~~  love he so _desperately _~~wanted~~  needs._

_And here you are, handing it to him on a silver platter.  And he was doing exactly the same for you._


End file.
